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Ascension 2 - Marcus Chambers vs Trevor Steel
- Thread starter Harthan
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Stacey is sitting outside the arena, chatting away on her cell phone the morning before Ascension. As her long blonde hair blows in the breeze, a rusted coupe turns into the parking lot, and makes it's way around the back of the arena to the area designated for wrestlers. Stacey laughs to her friend about "the junker that just pulled in", and then goes to see who it was. As she nears the parking lot, she can see Trevor Steel leaning back in his seat, with the radio blasting. His usual toothless smile is gone from his face as he stares off into the distance. Music is playing loudly, loud enough to drown out her voice as she calls to him.
Stacey Madison: Hey! Trevor! What's this racket? Can't you turn it down a bit? This is a public area, you know. They give tickets for this sort of stuff.
As Stacey finishes her rant, the music stops, and Trevor snaps back to life. He shuts off the radio, and then shuts off the car, bringing the rattling to a stop. He opens his door, and slowly moves towards the trunk before opening it. He stares into it for a second, seemingly confused.
Stacey: You know, we usually don't see eye-to-eye, but something is bothering you. Is it the win you stole last week? Way I see it, a win is a win. If Rafael was half the wrestler I thought he was, he would've mopped the floor with you.
Trevor snaps a glare in her direction, and slams the trunk shut.
Trevor Steel: That's just it, Stacey. Don't you get it? Rafael did mop the floor with me. Until I caught him with my finisher, he had me on the run. Sure, I got in a move here or there, but he controlled that entire match, and I was just along for the ride. I can say all I want about how bad his attitude is, and how no one should be that cocky, but maybe he has a point. He's a damn fine wrestler, and I was lucky to walk out of there with a win.
Stacey: You know what they say...Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. And...
Trevor interrupts her, finishing his point on Rafael.
Trevor: I don't want to be lucky. I want to show my son, and the fans of WZCW, that I am a real wrestler. Not some fly by night that is going to win each week by just "hanging in there". I've been training hard, and I'm trying to expand my repertoire, so finishes like last week don't have to happen again. As happy as I am that I won, I'm still upset that Rafael had to lose that way. I can only imagine what's going through his head right now.
Trevor tries to speak, but words escape him. He turns back to his car, and places his hands on the trunk while shaking his head in disbelief. He opens it again, and grabs his gym bag before slamming it shut. He turns to head to the arena, but Stacey is standing in his way.
Stacey: It's all well and good that you feel bad that you won, as crazy as that sounds, but you still need to accept that you won. You were the better man. It's up to him to deal with his loss. I'm sure your son wasn't upset telling his friends about how his dad won his first real match.
Trevor keeps his head down, his hair blocking out his face, with his shoulders slumped. He puts down his gym bag, and goes back to the passenger side door of his car, before reaching the open window, and pulling out a piece of paper. He walks over to Stacey, and unfolds it, showing her a picture drawn with crayons, and the initials ZS on the bottom corner.
Stacey: What's this supposed to be? Am I supposed to be impressed, or...?
Trevor: This is what my son drew me after my last match. It's me standing in the ring, with him on my shoulder, wearing a title belt. He told me that it didn't matter which one, as long as I was happy with myself. I can't be happy moving up the ranks in this company, if I'm not happy with each win along the way.
Stacey takes the picture from Trevor, and inspects a little closer. She folds it back up, and hands it to Trevor.
Stacey: Honor is great and all, but do you really think Showtime cared that he needed Milenko's help to win over Drake, and then cheated Milenko out of a promise to keep the belt for his own? You need to understand that sometimes the "right" way, isn't the only way. If you want to keep climbing the ranks, and you want to get noticed, you'll need a lot more than just talent.
Trevor: Then so be it. If my talent isn't enough to get me to the top, then that's something I'll have to live with.
Stacey: Ugh, whatever. You're obviously an idiot. What's that crap you were playing on your stereo when you came pulling in here? Doesn't really seem your style.
Trevor: It's actually a song by Rage Against The Machine called Renegades Of Funk. I spent all week thinking about my match with Chambers tonight, and I couldn't think of how to approach him in the ring. Then, while dusting off an old CD case, I came across a mix that included that song. I've been listening to it all day. It's given me a little insight in to Chambers. Since the beginning of time, there have been some very special people that have changed the course of history. They did what they did the right way though. They didn't verbally attack anyone, and they certainly didn't use violence. Marcus's attitude is all wrong about this. This match isn't about his beliefs though. Don't let him fool you. He can try and use me as a springboard to getting his point across, but it won't change anything. He's backed himself into a lose-lose situation.
Stacey: What do you mean by that? Are you saying that his plight isn't a problem? Are you telling me that you don't feel sorry for him, living in this country as a black man, being held down?
Trevor: There you go, twisting my words. I'm merely saying that if he wins, he'll go about bragging that he beat a white man. He's better than the white guy he faced in the ring. It'll make him look angry, and I'd feel sorry for him. If I win, he'll just rant about how the white man continues to hold black people down. This match has nothing to do with white, black, yellow, green, purple, or any other color. It has to do with who is the better wrestler. If he beats me, fine. He's the better wrestler, and deserved it. But, that's no reason to bring race into it.
Stacey: What does it mean if you win then?
Trevor: The same thing I've been saying all along, Stacey. If I win, then it means I was better. I'm not going out there to win, and hold down a black man. I'm going out there to win, and do it the way I should have last week. Without stealing it.
Stacey just sighs and walks away, as Trevor grabs his bag, takes a deep breath, and heads for the entrance to the arena. He takes a step through the door, looks back at his rustbucket, and then enters completely through the door as it slams shut behind him.
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Stacey Madison: Hey! Trevor! What's this racket? Can't you turn it down a bit? This is a public area, you know. They give tickets for this sort of stuff.
As Stacey finishes her rant, the music stops, and Trevor snaps back to life. He shuts off the radio, and then shuts off the car, bringing the rattling to a stop. He opens his door, and slowly moves towards the trunk before opening it. He stares into it for a second, seemingly confused.
Stacey: You know, we usually don't see eye-to-eye, but something is bothering you. Is it the win you stole last week? Way I see it, a win is a win. If Rafael was half the wrestler I thought he was, he would've mopped the floor with you.
Trevor snaps a glare in her direction, and slams the trunk shut.
Trevor Steel: That's just it, Stacey. Don't you get it? Rafael did mop the floor with me. Until I caught him with my finisher, he had me on the run. Sure, I got in a move here or there, but he controlled that entire match, and I was just along for the ride. I can say all I want about how bad his attitude is, and how no one should be that cocky, but maybe he has a point. He's a damn fine wrestler, and I was lucky to walk out of there with a win.
Stacey: You know what they say...Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. And...
Trevor interrupts her, finishing his point on Rafael.
Trevor: I don't want to be lucky. I want to show my son, and the fans of WZCW, that I am a real wrestler. Not some fly by night that is going to win each week by just "hanging in there". I've been training hard, and I'm trying to expand my repertoire, so finishes like last week don't have to happen again. As happy as I am that I won, I'm still upset that Rafael had to lose that way. I can only imagine what's going through his head right now.
Trevor tries to speak, but words escape him. He turns back to his car, and places his hands on the trunk while shaking his head in disbelief. He opens it again, and grabs his gym bag before slamming it shut. He turns to head to the arena, but Stacey is standing in his way.
Stacey: It's all well and good that you feel bad that you won, as crazy as that sounds, but you still need to accept that you won. You were the better man. It's up to him to deal with his loss. I'm sure your son wasn't upset telling his friends about how his dad won his first real match.
Trevor keeps his head down, his hair blocking out his face, with his shoulders slumped. He puts down his gym bag, and goes back to the passenger side door of his car, before reaching the open window, and pulling out a piece of paper. He walks over to Stacey, and unfolds it, showing her a picture drawn with crayons, and the initials ZS on the bottom corner.
Stacey: What's this supposed to be? Am I supposed to be impressed, or...?
Trevor: This is what my son drew me after my last match. It's me standing in the ring, with him on my shoulder, wearing a title belt. He told me that it didn't matter which one, as long as I was happy with myself. I can't be happy moving up the ranks in this company, if I'm not happy with each win along the way.
Stacey takes the picture from Trevor, and inspects a little closer. She folds it back up, and hands it to Trevor.
Stacey: Honor is great and all, but do you really think Showtime cared that he needed Milenko's help to win over Drake, and then cheated Milenko out of a promise to keep the belt for his own? You need to understand that sometimes the "right" way, isn't the only way. If you want to keep climbing the ranks, and you want to get noticed, you'll need a lot more than just talent.
Trevor: Then so be it. If my talent isn't enough to get me to the top, then that's something I'll have to live with.
Stacey: Ugh, whatever. You're obviously an idiot. What's that crap you were playing on your stereo when you came pulling in here? Doesn't really seem your style.
Trevor: It's actually a song by Rage Against The Machine called Renegades Of Funk. I spent all week thinking about my match with Chambers tonight, and I couldn't think of how to approach him in the ring. Then, while dusting off an old CD case, I came across a mix that included that song. I've been listening to it all day. It's given me a little insight in to Chambers. Since the beginning of time, there have been some very special people that have changed the course of history. They did what they did the right way though. They didn't verbally attack anyone, and they certainly didn't use violence. Marcus's attitude is all wrong about this. This match isn't about his beliefs though. Don't let him fool you. He can try and use me as a springboard to getting his point across, but it won't change anything. He's backed himself into a lose-lose situation.
Stacey: What do you mean by that? Are you saying that his plight isn't a problem? Are you telling me that you don't feel sorry for him, living in this country as a black man, being held down?
Trevor: There you go, twisting my words. I'm merely saying that if he wins, he'll go about bragging that he beat a white man. He's better than the white guy he faced in the ring. It'll make him look angry, and I'd feel sorry for him. If I win, he'll just rant about how the white man continues to hold black people down. This match has nothing to do with white, black, yellow, green, purple, or any other color. It has to do with who is the better wrestler. If he beats me, fine. He's the better wrestler, and deserved it. But, that's no reason to bring race into it.
Stacey: What does it mean if you win then?
Trevor: The same thing I've been saying all along, Stacey. If I win, then it means I was better. I'm not going out there to win, and hold down a black man. I'm going out there to win, and do it the way I should have last week. Without stealing it.
Stacey just sighs and walks away, as Trevor grabs his bag, takes a deep breath, and heads for the entrance to the arena. He takes a step through the door, looks back at his rustbucket, and then enters completely through the door as it slams shut behind him.
Cameras cut to a standing Marcus Chambers wearing his wrestling gear and gripping a football in his hands as he stares into the camera.
"The Enigma" looks down at the football and slowly looks back up at the camera again as he begins...
Chambers: When I was born I didn't have a silver spoon in my mouth. I didn't have a nice mansion to go home too. I don't even remember eating my first meal or even saying my first words. What I do remember is the first toy that was given to me by my father, a football.
Chambers looks at the football a moment and grips it tightly and continues...
Chambers:You see football was my ticket out of the ghetto. Instead of having a silver spoon in my mouth, I had nickel plated Glock pistols in my mouth as I was being robbed. Instead of a nice flashy mansion, I commuted from the projects to a crowded highschool of thousands. It was during these tough times that I learned about how dire my family situation was, and I knew who was to blame. The Man. The successful white anglo-saxon protestant male who profits off of those less fortunate, people like my mother.
Chambers shakes his head in disbelief as he continues to tell his story...
Chambers: Football was my ticket out of the ghetto. It was something that could open new doors for young, strong black men like me. Of course my supreme athletic talents led every Division 1 school in the nation knocking on my door. When I finally signed to play for Florida, my mother and father were proud to see a black man like me fight the system.
Chambers' attitude and facial expressions slowly turn into anger as he throws the football down hard on the floor...
Chambers:But then all of that was taken away from me in an instant. I tear my ACL and what does the all white alumni board decide to do? Take away my scholarship. They shattered my dreams. Why? Because it pained them to see such a promising black athlete like me overshadow the other white athletes. Because I am the best at what I do.
"The Enigma" soon begins to grin...
Chambers:Trevor...you think I have a wrong attitude about all of this? I'm not surprised that someone like you would say that, you are a low life, a degenerate. Unfortunately for you Trevor, tonight YOUR situation will be lose-lose because you are going against the hottest superstar in the business. This match has EVERYTHING to do with race, but maybe if he would worry about his education and less about those twinkies he keeps eating, then he would understand. Tonight, my streak continues. Tonight, I will prove myself worthy to all of my people around the world. Believe that!!
"The Enigma" looks down at the football and slowly looks back up at the camera again as he begins...
Chambers: When I was born I didn't have a silver spoon in my mouth. I didn't have a nice mansion to go home too. I don't even remember eating my first meal or even saying my first words. What I do remember is the first toy that was given to me by my father, a football.
Chambers looks at the football a moment and grips it tightly and continues...
Chambers:You see football was my ticket out of the ghetto. Instead of having a silver spoon in my mouth, I had nickel plated Glock pistols in my mouth as I was being robbed. Instead of a nice flashy mansion, I commuted from the projects to a crowded highschool of thousands. It was during these tough times that I learned about how dire my family situation was, and I knew who was to blame. The Man. The successful white anglo-saxon protestant male who profits off of those less fortunate, people like my mother.
Chambers shakes his head in disbelief as he continues to tell his story...
Chambers: Football was my ticket out of the ghetto. It was something that could open new doors for young, strong black men like me. Of course my supreme athletic talents led every Division 1 school in the nation knocking on my door. When I finally signed to play for Florida, my mother and father were proud to see a black man like me fight the system.
Chambers' attitude and facial expressions slowly turn into anger as he throws the football down hard on the floor...
Chambers:But then all of that was taken away from me in an instant. I tear my ACL and what does the all white alumni board decide to do? Take away my scholarship. They shattered my dreams. Why? Because it pained them to see such a promising black athlete like me overshadow the other white athletes. Because I am the best at what I do.
"The Enigma" soon begins to grin...
Chambers:Trevor...you think I have a wrong attitude about all of this? I'm not surprised that someone like you would say that, you are a low life, a degenerate. Unfortunately for you Trevor, tonight YOUR situation will be lose-lose because you are going against the hottest superstar in the business. This match has EVERYTHING to do with race, but maybe if he would worry about his education and less about those twinkies he keeps eating, then he would understand. Tonight, my streak continues. Tonight, I will prove myself worthy to all of my people around the world. Believe that!!
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